


Propriety

by ourdreamsrealized



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, Forbidden, Forbidden Love, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Lime, Love, Making Love, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Reader-Insert, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 01:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourdreamsrealized/pseuds/ourdreamsrealized
Summary: Everything about this was wrong, so why did it feel so right?





	Propriety

**Author's Note:**

> “Amrâlimê” - Khudzul for “love of me” 
> 
> Posting stuff from my Tumblr. Enjoy!

You weren’t the type to do this. No. Not you. You were instilled with a sense of propriety.

But there were calloused hands on you. Sliding up your thighs. Taking their time. One traveled up the curve of your hip. It stopped to caress your waist. The other hand remained lower. It marveled at the smoothness of your inner thigh.

His touch made any sense of decency fly out the barn window. And it easily went out of it. There were no panes, just an open square in weathered wood poorly nailed together to make the structure you were currently in.

The setting was on your list. Yes. You could make an extensive one, considering all the things wrong with what you were doing.

His lips were on your neck. Distracting. Tormenting. Just like his hands, but softer. Although, they were far from gentle. He nipped at the skin. You felt sparks, some pain. It wasn’t unpleasant. Nothing that he was doing was.

He moved to the beginnings of your shoulder. Kissed. Sucked. Nipped. And you  _moaned_. Then gasped in pure horror of the sound. He snorted against your skin. Then continued without hesitation, planting more of those igniting kisses of his.

Oh, what would your mother think? You, as an unmarried, uncourted member of the fairer sex, engaging in such wanton behavior.

And with _him_ of all people.

You fisted the aged cloth that lay loose on his back, pressing him closer. You could feel the rippling muscles beneath his flesh with your knuckles, and it was then that you realized just how different the two of you were.

You, a daughter of man, and him, a son of Durin, a dwarf. Another thing on your list.

And yet, you spread yourself for him, opened to him like a flower in bloom. He stroked your petals. He worshipped their softness and praised you with his delicious mouth. He kissed you hard, so unlike his earlier, experimental pecks that had grown passionate and led you here.

The hand on your hip rose, cupping your breast through the fabric of your blouse. He brushed a thumb over its peak, and you sighed into his mouth, tongue still entangled with his. The sound seemed to draw him closer to you, and you awareness of him heightened to a new altitude.

You were no longer on earth, and heaven was a hard landscape, one that molded itself to your supple curves.

“Focus on me,  _Amrâlimê_ ,” came his rough baritone in a warm breath upon your swollen lips.

His stormy eyes were on yours now, and while you wanted to ask what that beautiful word meant, you suddenly found your mouth occupied with other things. Better things.

You cradled his head, fingers diving into his dark tresses as you pulled him even closer. He groaned into the kiss. Your skirt went higher upon your body. His hand followed before dipping lower.

You cried out, breaking your lips from his. He hummed in approval, his eyes watching you with pure wonder.

Tender fingertips separated the white fabric that covered your upper half before slipping under and caressing your left breast. His other hand was in a more private place, stirring things in you that made you rip up your mental list.

Propriety be damned.


End file.
